


Ammo and Anarchy

by Fulcrumisthebomb



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Crosshairs has a dirty mouth, Implied Sexual Content, Language, M/M, schmoopy robutts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-02-07 14:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1902675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fulcrumisthebomb/pseuds/Fulcrumisthebomb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of Crosshairs/Drift prompts and plot bunnies, ranging from tame feel-goodness to explicit smut.</p><p>(May contain TF4 spoilers)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Crosshairs falls asleep against Drift while learning to meditate.

"Like this?"

Drift's optics slitted open, smiling serenely at the bot sitting opposite. "Heh. No."

Crosshairs growled in frustration, resettling on the ground and venting harshly. His back straightened further, neck extended, face twisted with concentration. "Now?"

"Ah, no."

Sighing, Crosshairs looked over Drift's immobile frame yet again, tweaking his posture to- he thought- exactly mirror the swordmech's. As far as he could tell, he was sitting in an exact copy of Drift, and yet Drift had withheld approval a dozen times now. And with that goofy zen smile of his, Crosshairs couldn't tell if Drift was mocking him or not. Probably was. Irritating glitch.

"Now?" Crosshairs snapped, holding perfectly still while Drift peeked at him once more.

"Not quite."

" _Slaggit!_ " Crosshairs roared, slamming a fist into the grass. "Fuck this meditation scrap. I  _quit!_ "

Drift languidly unfurled from his rigid pose, slowly crawling on all fours to sit next to his seething friend. Crosshairs glared at the patronising grin, flinching from the gentle hand laid on his shoulder.

"Patience is more important than form," Drift explained quietly. "Forgive the deception, my friend. We must know your limits before I can begin to teach you."

Crosshairs huffed angrily, rolling his optics before he slouched against Drift. "That's- That makes sense," he admitted grudgingly, "but couldn't you've... Ugh. S'ppose not."

"Explaining the exercise defeats the purpose," Drift supplied with another of his calm smiles. "And you are tired, so we will end today's lesson. A clear mind and clear intent are very important for meditating."

Crosshairs opened his mouth to argue, but snapped it shut just as quickly. He  _was_ exhausted, and denying it would only give Drift more fuel to tease him with. Groaning, he rested his full weight into Drift's side, one arm curling lazily over a dark thigh. "Guess you're still gonna meditate?"

Drift nodded, shifting slightly to place a hand over Crosshairs and press it into his leg. "Yes. And I would be happy if you stayed."

Crosshairs huffed again; sometimes he wondered if he'd gain Drift's ability to read processors if he learned how to meditate. It was disturbing how easily Drift could answer unasked questions and finish his sentences. He wanted to be able to do that, to feel so in sync with the swordmech he could predict him,  _feel_ him like he only could through merging. That wasn't a bad idea; maybe next time they crossed wires he could sneak past a few more firewalls and explore further...

Lulled into recharge by Drift's warmth and touch, Crosshairs didn't feel the soft press of lips against his helm.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cade is a bad influence on keeping Crosshairs working at all hours of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt set after TF4: They wouldn't abandon that crashed ship, right? I can just see Cade itching to get his greedy hands on that piece of machinery.

Crosshairs picked up the tiny welder, turning it over carefully. "Why did your creators build you so  _small?_ " he complained as he tossed the tool to Cade. 

"Why'd yours build you so  _large?_ " Cade returned promptly with a grin. "Easy to build something big. Takes a lot more time and effort to build something small."

"Watch it, squishy," Crosshairs growled teasingly, flicking a piece of burnt hull plating at the human, cackling when Cade squeaked and ducked. "Not only are you small, but your armour is basically nonexistent. You might wake up to find yourself smashed into goo. Totally by  _accident_ , of course."

"There are no accidents," Cade replied with a dark look. 

" _You_ are."

Cade stared, eyes wide with shock as Crosshairs began guffawing. He managed to hold onto his indignation for a few seconds longer before shaking his head with a smile. "Okay, okay. Touché, but that was a line we don't cross in this household."

"Pfft, you're no fun," Crosshairs snorted, then held up his hands peaceably as Cade glared. "Alright, alright. Got it. Line's right there."

"Do not estimate a being on their physical size," a murmured whispered. Both Crosshairs and Cade jumped, turning to find a pair of dimly lit optics watching them from a dark corner. It wouldn't have been too easy for Drift to hide, but the enormous spaceship parts they were repairing cast all manner of odd shadows on the walls.

" _Don't_ do that," Crosshairs snapped, pointing at Drift with an oversized wrench. "What did I tell ya 'bout sneaking up on me?"

"And me," Cade added petulantly.

Drift chuckled as he stepped into the harsh glare of the spotlights, tilting his head as he paused by Crosshairs' side. "Your daughter will be upset you are working so late, Cade."

Cade flashed him a sheepish grin before returning to his work.

"And you," Drift sighed, leaning in further to drop his cheek against Crosshairs' shoulder. "You cannot rest either?"

"Recharged a bit," Crosshairs mumbled, glancing away guiltily. "Woke up. Didn't wanna sit around all night."

"Nightmares?" Drift prompted quietly, frowning when Crosshairs nodded. He snuck a finger under Crosshairs' chin, lifting his face to meet his gaze. "I have told you to wake me when you are troubled."

"You looked so comfortable," Crosshairs huffed, shrugging off the gentle touch. "No sense in you missing out on sleep too."

"I worry when I online and find you gone," Drift replied lightly. He squatted by the ship, testing a recent weld. "Why are you fixing this? It looks beyond saving."

"That's the wrong kinda thinking," Cade piped up as he clamoured onto the rounded frame of the cockpit. "Just think if we can get this going again! I've already got schematics drawn, so once we can put this one together, we could make  _more_."

Drift nodded slowly, catching Crosshairs optics as he repeated, "But, why?"

"Why not?" Crosshairs grinned. "Already promised Tess and Shane a ride up to Canada and Europe. And it'd be a helluva lot easier to haul parts to the farm. Patrol would be a lot faster too, since, y'know, not all of us are  _triple-changers_. Defense. Mobility. Those ain't ever bad things, Frills."

"How does that even work?" Cade asked eagerly, splaying back on a thick beam and pointing up at Drift. "The three forms. Can any of you do that, or is there something special about  _you_ in particular, Drift? Can you get more than three? Why'd you-,"

Drift held up a hand, smiling behind it. "I will be happy to explain when I am feeling more aware, Cade. For now, I have an important question." He nudged Crosshairs lightly. "For you."

Crosshairs' brow ridges raised curiously as he settled his empty hand on Drift's back. "Yeah? Can't wait 'til morning?"

"No." Drift's gaze dropped briefly, looking the ship over before glancing up worriedly at the gunner. "You  _will_ stay, won't you?"

"Stay?" Cade echoed, confused. "What do you mean?"

"It  _is_ a space ship," Drift reminded him wryly. "If it is repaired, we would not have to remain on Earth."

"What? No!" Crosshairs' fingers dug into kibble, pulling Drift closer. "Well, now that you mention it..."

Cade looked alarmed, waving his arms frantically. "No, you  _can't_ leave! I  _want_ you to stay here, with me and my family. Optimus said-,"

"Optimus is not here," Drift replied quietly, staring at Crosshairs, who shook his head.

"I ain't jetting off this backwater planet unless you go with me," Crosshairs replied firmly. "And since you're so in love with the humans, I don't see you just up and leaving. Do you?"

The tension melted from Drift's frame as he leaned into Crosshairs, smiling widely. "No. I do not wish to leave."

"More's the pity," Crosshairs grumbled, then deftly flicked Cade's hat off. "No offense."

"I  _am_ offended," Cade chided them, scrambling after his hat. "You guys are family too, you know. Family takes care of each other."

Crosshairs returned Drift's grin, his hand dipping down to squeeze the pert aft there. "Yeah. New concept for me, Cade, but I gotcha."


	3. Common Interests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crosshairs finds surprising similarities between he and Drift.

 "So this is it?"

Drift in-vented sharply as he pulled rapidly from his meditation, fields flaring to locate Crosshairs approaching from his left- conveniently in his blind spot, he noted with amusement. Of all the Autobots Drift had traveled with yet, Crosshairs was the only one who could sneak within an arm's length of Drift without detection; a point of pride for the sniper, and a source of endless embarrassment for their 'official' scout, Bumblebee.

Crosshairs snorted, stomping around the swordsmech and pacing in a wobbly line in front of him. "Fuckin' guard duty, after all the shit we've put up with on this backwater planet! Great, just _great_."

Drift's optics slitted open, tracking his friend's movements as he mentally prepared himself for the forthcoming rant.

"We just get to sit here on our afts and watch these squishies grow old while Optimus is off doing Fearless Leader stuff on his own? I dunno, Drift." Crosshairs huffed again, rolling a shoulder. "Don't get me wrong, it's nice not being hunted like turbofoxes for once, but the big OP fighting my fight for me? These 'creators' ain't mine but they're gunning for all of us, right? Need a few hundred of my rounds through 'em before I can rest easy."

Ah, so it was the unknown unsettling his friend today. Truthfully, it bothered Drift tremendously as well; it was soothing to hear his darker thoughts framed by that rough voice.

Crosshairs paused mid-step, pivoting on his back pede to face Drift, hands flailing. "We got Lockdown's ship, why'd he have to run off and leave us here _again?_ Doesn't he remember the last time he did that? Got himself shot to hell and back. But oh no, he's the great and powerful Prime and we're just..."

The underlying _he doesn't trust us_ was all too clear and all too close to Drift's own insecurities. He shifted, matching Crosshair's earlier sigh, but still was silent.

Crosshairs collapsed beside him in a puff of dust, scowling into the distance. "Cade and his spawn's got everything now. Money an' protection an' shit. Don't need us."

_Nobody does_ , Drift echoed mentally.

"So- So what do we do?!" Crosshair's face twisted angrily. "Wish I had your faith in Prime. Or Hound's. Easy for you glitches to just sit here waiting for new orders, innit? Driving me batshit crazy."

Drift failed to suppress a laugh, biting his lower lip as Crosshair's gaze snapped to his. His friend's quick adaptation to the local colourful language never failed to amuse him. 

"Glad you find my suffering funny," Crosshair grumbled, though much of the bite was lost. "'Least someone does. Might as well be you, Frills. Good talk."

Drift's fields expanded again, easily meshing with Crosshair's as he watched his friend carefully. "I always enjoy listening to you talk."

And there it was- the slight hesitation, magnified by the jolt of surprise Drift felt in Crosshair's energy. It was a habit he'd observed since he began traveling with the sniper; it saddened him that Crosshairs met compliments with suspicion even as he intimately understood the reaction. 

"Right," Crosshairs snorted, gaze diverting to the side guiltily. "You just love listenin' to me spit curses at you. Don't you start, Drift, I'm not in the mood."

"Start what?" Drift prompted curiously.

"Butterin' me up for something, aren't ya?"

Drift tilted his head. "'Buttering'?" He ran the slang through his database, then laughed. "No. When have I lied to you, Crosshairs? When have I spoken of my admiration of you only to gain a favour?"

Heat rolled off Crosshairs as he shifted uncomfortably on the ground, a quick scowl covering the first twitch of a smile. "Why you gotta use all those fancy words on me? But, you got a point. You'd be a shit liar, Drift. Hilarious, considering you were..." His brow furrowed. "Just why were you a 'Con, anyway? Oh, don't bother, I know y'won't answer, it's just glitchin' to imagine you as-,"

"Deadlock."

Crosshairs jumped, optics wide and startled. "What?"

Drift's jaw clenched. He glanced behind, scanners detecting only their two sparks in the vicinity. "It was the name Megatron gave me."

"What?! Primus, Drift, you- ahahaha, you're puttin' me on," Crosshairs replied nervously. 

"You just told me I am a shit liar."

Crosshairs barked a laugh, scooting closer, fingers twisting into the packed earth. "Yeah. Yeah, that's true. I-," his voice lowered, roughened, "- _Primus_ , Drift."

Drift flinched at the unmistakable hint of fear/awe flickering between their shared fields, replying with a wash of shame. Crosshairs in-vented sharply in response, straightening with a glint in his optics.

"What made you join the 'Cons?" Crosshairs asked slowly, frowning again. "I mean, _you?_   Out there killing everything that moved? Just.. doesn't seem like you." He flashed an empty grin. "More my style."

"Perhaps that is why we are a great team," Drift replied quietly. "You see my restraint, my calm, and think it easy. You think it is a natural part of me." He leveled a stare at his friend. "It is not. It is a difficult choice I make and re-make every cycle."  

"Huh." 

An odd silence settled around them as Drift waited for the accusations. The awkward, obvious questions. Waited for Crosshairs to move away, to withdraw his fields. The rejection now would pale to what would come later, however; Crosshairs would be slow to support him in the next battle, keeping a close eye on his movements and the arc of his swords as closely as he watched the enemy.

Because that's what Drift was, no matter what Optimus, or Megatron or any other dictator had thought of him in the past. Drift was a tool of violence, and even with a veneer of discipline the rage and lust roiled just within reach, ready and aching to be used. 

He sighed deeply, blaming his flimsy hold to this relatively new concept of redemption for his confession. Fooling the Autobots into believing he was a flaky spiritualist made for effective and reliable allies- and perhaps it wasn't all an act- but that was still keeping them safely at arm's length. And for the rest of the team, even Optimus, Drift was alright with that. 

Crosshairs was different. The longer Drift knew him, the more Drift was certain he was worth the risk.

"So, with OP out doing Prime stuff..." Crosshair's maniacal grin was familiar, one that sent a shiver down Drift's backstruts every time he witnessed it. "It'd be awesome to open you up, see what you can _really_ do without all those 'hero and glory' restrictions."

Drift's spark raced in anticipation. "I am Deadlock no longer," he replied, just barely keeping his voice even.

"That kinda shit doesn't just go away 'cause you want it to," Crosshairs scoffed. "Trust me, Frills. I'm warborn. I _know_."

Drift blinked at him slowly, more puzzle pieces slotting together in a way that ashamed him to have not seen sooner. "This is who I want to be now, my friend. But your.. acceptance is.." His mouth moved soundlessly, then snapped shut. There weren't words, in any of the languages he knew, but maybe he could-

He rocked forward, grabbing Crosshairs around the middle as he spread his legs. A second later he was dragging the yelping sniper backwards, settling the larger bot against his chassis and shuttering his optics as he pressed his face to warm plating.

"So now I just gotta figure out how," Crosshairs mused, immediately relaxing into the too-tight grip. "How c'n I open you up?"

Drift's confidence was quickly melting under the onslaught of new sensations and possibilities. "That is the only question you have? Do you not want to know why I chose the other side of the war?"

Crosshairs waved a hand lazily. "Yeah, sure, later. I got plottin' to do with you first."

A lick of charge sparked from Drift's hand when he placed it on Crosshairs' thigh, splaying his digits wide to soak in the warmth. "And sometime, perhaps more, together?"

"Oh, you know it," Crosshairs grinned.


End file.
